


In love in the morning sun

by becka



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, Morning Sex, Pig Grimshaw - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-19 11:28:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2386697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/becka/pseuds/becka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I asked for prompts on tumblr, and <a href="http://ziusik.tumblr.com/">ziusik</a> said <i>NICK AND HARRY IN THE FUTURE</i> and <a href="http://stupidgorgeousbritishboys.tumblr.com">stupidgorgeousbritishboys</a> said <i>pleeease write some little scenes about nick and pig, fluffy, domestic stuff, it doesn't even have to be gryles or anything, but if you feel like you wanted to that, that would be awesome, too :)</i>, so THIS IS BOTH.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In love in the morning sun

Harry’s dick is sitting fat and hot against the small of Nick’s back, and it’s the best way to wake up, except the dog is also bumping her nose at the other side of the door, whining plaintively. The sun’s already blaring through the blinds, so she’s right that it’s well past the usual time for her morning walk; and you can’t explain weekends to a dog, really. But Harry is rubbing against him, wriggling in closer, and Nick reaches back to stroke a hand over his bare hip instead of fumbling out of bed like a responsible adult.

“Morning,” says Harry, in a contented slur against the back of Nick’s neck. His fingers fold over Nick’s, lace them together and squeeze, and Nick squeezes back. Harry’s chest is tacky with sweat, like he’s been spooning Nick for a while, and Nick doesn’t even mind the heat of him. He could happily stay like this for at least ten minutes.

“Pig needs a wee,” he says, in the interest of full disclosure.

“Me too,” says Harry, but he’s rock hard at Nick’s back and thrusting lazily. “I’m waiting though.” He untangles his hand from Nick’s and reaches for Nick’s cock, wrapping it up and coaxing Nick from morning wood to prickling need.

“She won’t wait,” he tries to argue. “She’ll go on the rug in the hall again.”

“S’alright,” says Harry, grazing his teeth along Nick’s shoulder. “It’s your rug.”

“Our rug now,” says Nick, shifting so Harry’s thrusts are bringing him up against the soft flesh of Nick’s arse. “Our house, our rug. Our dog.” It makes him all tingly to say it, in a tenderest, most sentimental reaches of his soul, and he closes his eyes tight as he feels Harry grinning into his skin.

“I didn’t know I had joint custody of the dog.” Harry takes his hand away, spits into his palm and brings it back again, although his grip is still a little rough, the new guitar calluses on his fingers dragging along Nick’s shaft. He’s been honing his guitar skills since the last tour ended, using the only long break he’s had in five years to nest and play classic rock covers with Niall. Nick comes home from work sometimes to find them serenading Pig in the living room, her head going back and forth like it’s Wimbledon, Harry changing “Free Fallin’” to “Pig Doggin’” while Niall does harmonies.

“Joint custody means you can take her out,” says Nick, pushing lazily into Harry’s hand. “You’re authorised.” Pig whines outside the door, and Nick digs the lube out from under his pillow. They’ll need to move a bit faster, for her sake.

He drizzles lube over Harry’s fingers, working into Harry’s slippery grip as Harry moans behind him. He lets go of Nick’s cock to reach back slick his own, working it into the crack of Nick’s arse. Nick isn’t one for fucking early in the morning, but the slide of Harry’s cock against the tender rim of his arsehole makes him shiver and press back. He starts to wank himself since Harry seems preoccupied, but Harry whines and bats his hand away.

“I have a proposal,” says Harry breathlessly, working into a seesawing rhythm against Nick’s arse, matching it on his cock. Nick makes a distracted “go on” noise in his throat. “Whoever comes first has to take the dog out.”

“Never work,” says Nick, tilting his head back to kiss the corner of Harry’s mouth. “Then the other poor sod has to finish off alone.”

Harry huffs sadly. “Think the rug’s done for then.” He bends to kiss Nick more fully, and Nick ignores his morning breath, sucking at Harry’s plush lower lip. Harry’s thrusts are getting harder and quicker, and his breathing is high and wheezy with urgency. Nick reaches down to steady the hand on his cock, guide it back to a normal rhythm.

“You’re close, aren’t you, pet?” says Nick, hoarse but surprisingly even. “You’re ready to come for me, yeah?”

Harry whimpers and curls tighter around Nick’s back, spindly knees jostling against Nick’s thighs. He moves his hips in frantic little circles and cries out as he spills into the close heat of Nick’s arse, smearing wetly down the crack, up the small of Nick’s back. Pig barks once, like Harry might need her help. But Harry is doing just fine. He tugs at Nick’s cock with new focus after, even as he’s wallowing in the slick of his own come. Nick doesn’t need much more than that. His load stripes the sheets and Harry’s slippery fingers, and he gives a satisfied little sigh, squeezing Harry’s wrist as Harry lets him go.

“I still need a wee,” says Harry, sounding torn.

“Do it in the en-suite, love. Too kinky for this early otherwise.” Nick rubs his face into the pillow, smelling him and Harry all mixed up together. “Take the dog out while you’re up.”

Harry smacks him on the thigh before rolling out of bed, and Nick must drift off again because the next thing he knows, Pig is licking his ear. “Not supposed to be on the bed, Pig dog,” he tells her, reaching up to scratch between her ears. He’s probably a bad pet parent for not noticing the come all over his fingers until after.

“I’ve got joint custody and I say she’s fine,” says Harry, laying himself against Nick’s front this time so they’re nose to nose. This close up, Harry’s a blur of eyebrows and messy fringe, and Nick can’t help smiling at him.

“Did you take her out?” asks Nick.

“Yeah. Whole household’s been for a wee except you.”

“Well done.” There’s something about the word “household” that feels nice, feels settled in a way that Nick wants nowadays. They have routines, him and Harry and Pig, patterns to the week that they’re slowly carving out, like water over stone. It won’t always be like this, Nick knows. But it’s all he could ask for this morning.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr (and ask me to write silly stuff like this) [here](http://realmenwearpuppypants.tumblr.com/). <3


End file.
